


This Disease is Killing Me

by cameronmonaghan



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Gallavich, M/M, Sad, angsty, bipolar, breaking up, season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 05:12:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3196595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cameronmonaghan/pseuds/cameronmonaghan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I haven't decided if this is going to be a one-shot breakup scene, or a multi-chapter up-and-down bipolar roller coaster yet. Regardless, Ian breaks it off with Mickey after Mickey isn't in the mood. It's the bipolar disease talking, of course. If I add more chapters, Ian and Mickey will end up together once again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Disease is Killing Me

**Author's Note:**

> I needed more angst in my life. I do not own these characters, and I am not affiliated with Shameless.

The couple hadn't been in bed long, five minutes tops. Mickey was laying in his boyfriend's arms, head nestled into the crook of his neck. He was oblivious to the erection growing underneath him, ready for a good night of cuddling and sleep. He was exhausted. As Mickey was beginning to drift off, Ian sat there, arms still around Mickey's frame, staring at the ceiling. He was so hard, he was unable to ignore it.

"Mick," Ian whispered, lifting his hips a little, pressing his erection into Mickey's hip. "Mickey."

"Mm." Mickey's eyes opened slowly, staring at the small portion of Ian's neck that was available to his line of vision. "What?"

"You awake still?"

"I guess so. What's up?"

Ian pressed against Mickey's hip again, grinding a little. He slid his hands down, squeezing Mickey's ass through his boxers. "Let's fuck."

Mickey let out a small groan. He wasn't one to typically turn down sex, but they'd been having so much of it lately that he'd decided he could go a night without it. "Not really in the mood," the older man mumbled sleepily, closing his eyes again. He assumed Ian would understand, already starting to fall asleep again.

"Really?" Ian pleaded, frowning as he continued to squeeze.

"Yeah," Mickey mumbled, mind half-conscious. "This is nice enough," he said in reference to being held. Ian sighed softly, continuing to stare at the ceiling. He was still completely hard. He almost didn't hear Mickey when he said, "I love you." If it weren't for this damned disease, he would have been ecstatic, but instead he felt annoyed.

"What?" Ian questioned, his exasperated tone surprising Mickey.

"I said I love you," Mickey said a little more clear, waking up a bit. He sounded unsure now, scowling as his eyes opened.

There was a long moment of silence before Ian said an uneasy, "Okay..."

Now Mickey was awake. He sat up, rubbing one of his eyes with the palm of one of his hands. "Yo, I just told you I love you, and all you say's 'okay'? You do realize this is the first time I've even said-"

"I'm not in love with you anymore."

Mickey froze. He shook his head, not sure that he was hearing right. "Um... Wait, what?" He shook his head, certain he had misheard.

"I'm just," Ian started, shrugging when he couldn't complete his sentence at first. "I'm not in love with you."

Slowly, Mickey's heart began to crack, a lump building in his throat. "What?" was all he managed to reply, swallowing hard as he felt a sharp pain between his heart and the back of his throat.

Ian just shrugged again, and Mickey noticed that there were no emotions in his eyes. Immediately distancing himself, Mickey moved out from underneath the covers, standing up before sitting on the edge of the bed, facing away from Ian. There was a long moment of silence between the two, and in that moment, Ian felt nothing. Not remorse, not relief, not sadness or happiness. He felt nothing. The disease was taking over his self control. He couldn't even control his actions and thoughts anymore. Mickey, of course, thought Ian was speaking out of sincerity, having believed Ian when he'd said he was better.

"Okay," Mickey finally said, his throat tight, voice strained. He couldn't even think straight, aching and praying to a god he didn't believe in that this was all a dream. "You don't love me," he stated, though he was still seeking further confirmation.

"Nope," Ian confirmed in an emotionless tone, not having moved from where he lay in their- in Mickey's bed.

"Okay," Mickey said again, swallowing hard to try and rid of the ache in his throat that seemed to be rising higher and higher, though the swallowing only seemed to make it worse. "Then why did you stay for so long?"

"The sex was good," Ian replied. That's all anything was about anymore for him - Sex. He didn't understand why, but he didn't try to fight it.

Mickey's heart shattered as soon as the words left Ian's mouth. The sex was good. The brunette had never felt more used and betrayed in his life. "Are you... Are you fucking kidding me?" Becoming defensive was what Mickey knew to turn to in times of vulnerability. "Because the sex was good?"

"The sex was really good," Ian confirmed. "And it's kind of nice to be away from my family, I guess."

"Right." Mickey fought against the tears attempting to form, trying to distance himself. This was the very reason he'd never allowed himself to get close to anyone before; Now that Ian had known every last inch of his body, mind, and soul, he didn't know how to hide himself from the man he loved. "Okay." Mind racing, Mickey was torn between begging Ian to say he was joking and telling Ian to leave. "You... You should... You probably need to leave then."

"Probably?" Mickey's stomach turned at how amused Ian's tone was. For a small millisecond, hope flooded Mickey that the amused tone would lead to Ian admitting to playing a sick joke on his lover. He remained silent as he waited for it to happen, but it didn't. Ian didn't say anything else. He still hadn't looked away from the ceiling.

"You don't... It's late, you can leave tomorrow, I'll take the couch, but... Yeah, not probably, for sure. For sure you need to... go." He couldn't stop the tears from forming this time, but was able to blink them away after a moment of sitting there, biting down on his lip as his throat painfully throbbed as it tightened further. His chest felt as though it were caving in, his eyebrows pulling together.

"You're kicking me out?" Ian tested.

"You're breaking up with me!"

"Is that what I'm doing?"

"You just said you didn't love me," Mickey replied, suddenly very confused. He slowly turned to look at Ian, but Ian's eyes remained glued to the ceiling.

"I don't, I fell out of love, but lots of people aren't in love with their boyfriends and girlfriends."

"Fuck you," Mickey snapped immediately. He turned back around and stood up, pulling on sweatpants and a t-shirt before heading into the living room. He couldn't handle being in the same room as Ian. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe. As soon as he was in the living room, the tears were unstoppable. He crashed onto the couch, lying down on his side, bringing his knees into his chest. This couldn't be happening. After everything they'd gone through to be in a relationship, Ian was just going to throw all of it away like it had been nothing more than a meaningless fling? Mickey felt sick to his stomach. He'd given this boy his everything. No, this boy was his everything, but to Ian he was nothing more than a convenient fuck-buddy and escape from his own home.


End file.
